


Until It Finally Kills Me

by hoestreet



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), Riverdale (TV 2017) RPF
Genre: But also, Childhood Trauma, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everything is shit, F/M, Hurt Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Jughead Jones-centric, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mentioned Veronica Lodge, Protective Jughead Jones, Sad Veronica Lodge, Veronica Lodge-centric, bc im a horrible author, but banter, look - Freeform, suicide is talked about
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:29:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoestreet/pseuds/hoestreet
Summary: So I did the usual Jughead way of dealing with things like this, and decided I was going to suppress them until they finally killed me.Sounded like an offer I couldn't possibly pass up.





	Until It Finally Kills Me

They used to think that love was based on what you obtained from someone, that it was all about signals and classical conditioning. You'd associate two stimuli together and learn to love them both, as a pair, and that was it. Once one factor from the pair was gone, so was the love you had for them. 'Cupboard love' was what they called it, and they believed it, until they realised that unconditional love actually did exist and humans were more than mindless feeders. And I think it exists too, just not in my family. Not in my parents. Not in my mother who paired her husband and the money he brought in for us together, and stopped loving him once the economical factor fell short, and stopped loving me because I was no longer serving as a source of protection or happiness, but instead more of a silent but nagging hassle that needed food and water and god forbid shelter over his head. Not in my father, who stopped loving us all because we weren't providing him with the same pleasure he got from the bottle. The only unconditional love I ever experienced was from my little sister. But like all good things, that got taken away from me all too soon as well.

So I guess unconditional love didn’t exist. At least, not in my small circle.

I thought.

Then I met Veronica.

I say met; I knew of her previously, when my life was still tolerable and I had two parents and a sister and we could all at least pretend we were a functioning family, and I'd laugh and play along with the rest of the kids like a normal child, but then we kind of stopped associating ourselves. She was this source of positive energy, she brought my sluggish thoughts of optimism to the forefront of my brain, helped me live a clear life without having to look past this lingering, dark haze of hopelessness – though the dark haze was probably more from a minor blood clot in my eye from the amount of times someone has whacked me round the face, and less from an improbable impending hopelessness, but whatever. Point was, she made everything better for me. And that was just me being in her presence. The way she challenged me intellectually was enough to keep me living a lavish mentally healthy life. The distractions kept me ticking over, her eyes kept me grounded.

Now imagine how much I grew being allowed into her mind, into her soul. That was an indescribable warmth. A dream.

There's that one cliché line; 'god was the pen and she was the lighter', bla bla bla and all that jazz, but I'm positive that in my story she not only made my life brighter, but drew it completely from scratch and set my old one on fire.

I guess it was puppy love. It was a good thing while it lasted. Those first few months of a healthy, happy relationship, where you both feel invincible. Nothing can plague you with the other by your side. Soulmates, ready and able to take on the world, right?

Wrong.

Because even though I was still impossibly in love with Veronica and she was still infatuated with me, the happiness I was just getting used to was muting again, laying back dormant. This wasn't supposed to happen – the fairy tales say that my one true love would bring me eternal happiness, and the books tell me that love erases all negative thoughts and feelings forever. I was supposed to be saved, changed, cured of whatever demons were still clinging to my back.

My life was at a standstill, neither better nor worse than when Veronica swooped in and took off with my heart. While my dad went to prison and my mom batted me away from her new pristine life on the other side of the wall for a second time, all the resulting factors, both good and bad, cancelled each other out and I carried on through the emotional monotony as the same old Jughead, no sadder, no happier. I think I just finally realised that, after all that scrambling and hoping and avid novel writing where the humble Jughead would come out with a happy ending, that there's truly nothing for me. Not here, not anywhere. I had Veronica, but she had the whole world. She had a whole beautiful life ahead of her if she wanted it, all she had to do was reach out and pluck it from the sky and it would be all hers. She wasn't damaged goods yet, she could still fix it all and make something of herself. It would be difficult but she could finally get what she was worthy of. She had that go in her that enabled for that to work.

Now, this wasn't a sob story fanfic or an angsty teenage drama TV show. I wasn't gonna cause more problems by breaking up with her because "it's not you, it's me", why would I ever do that when she's the best thing that's ever happened to me? No, I just tightened my grip on her; I wouldn't call it selfish but more of a survival instinct. I knew I wouldn't be able to survive without her with me. So I guess, in the long run, my decreasing mental health was making our relationship stronger than ever. In some respect. In other respects, she didn't detect as much of a difference as reality was playing out for me, didn't know I had frequent and lengthy discussions alone with a kitchen knife and thoughts of the other other side, didn't know I'd sit on the edge of a 300ft cliff thinking what could be, didn't know I made her wear my helmet hoping, just hoping, the front wheel of my savvy, retro motorbike would accidentally swerve out of my control and I'd go head on into a tree...

She didn't have to know. As I said, this was real life, with real life curiously stubborn Ronnie and my intense need to just have her happy and safe and not worrying about me – if I could have anything in this god forbid dreary world. I kept her in the unknown, warm and cosy and tucked up in the utmost ignorance.

Probably wasn't my cleverest move. I'd never admit that aloud, but me being secretly suicidal wasn't something I'd ever out rightly say either. I didn't see a need to, as it crawled on so quietly, so deathly, that how was I supposed to know? In fact, I didn't even have a reason to want to die. Yeah my life used to suck, but fast forward two years, I had the most beautiful girlfriend, my dad was in jail and out of trouble or harm, my friends' lives were all looking up, no one had fucking died in a while and none of the serpents had asked me to do anything too outrageously snakey. So life was pretty alright, great if I dare say so, yet all I wanted to do was off myself. And it took over my every thought.

I know exactly what Veronica would say, and I'd stare at her face, take in her cat-like, vigilant eyes and perfectly painted lips as they moved with the words "Jug your trauma has just caught up with you. You know this shits normal". But these words would take a while to sink in as all I'd be thinking about is kissing her, and how kissing her always made things better. My face would be straight though, unsuspecting, while my heart's racing at impossible speeds from nerves and sadness and frustration and love, and I'd slowly nod once, face still set, and pop out a dry sentence or two dripping in heavily coated sarcasm and making a reference to some old Indie film that would cast a look of faux disappointment over her face while she desperately struggled to hide that snide smirk that arised at anything Quentin Tarantino related.

I've played the scene over and over again in my head until each scene merged with the last and all I could see was the colour of her eyes, bright, too bright, swirling underneath my eyelids and sending me into a near frenzy because I was so lost without her physically by my side these days, but being around her too much made this crazy eruption of guilt wrap itself around my throat so tight until I'd have to run away from her for it to loosen its grasp. It was reminding me not to let her in, not to drag her down with me. She was one of the only people able to fly away from this town while it crumbled underneath her, so I had to keep her a certain distance away from me to make sure that when the time comes, she'd be able to spread her wings and escape while I fell under.

In the meantime, however, I'd run over the different scenarios in my mind as if I did actually, for once in my life, let someone take a slightly deeper peek in there. Most of the time I imagined that she'd come away disgusted. Or saddened. Usually disappointed, at how casually I was treating it, like it wasn't a matter of life or death. She'd have that soft frown gracing her features. Her eyebrows would furrow slightly and she'd stick her chin out and cross her arms and cock her head to the side. Putting more thought into it, that’s more of a Betty response, as she’d pulled the exact face countless times at me. Veronica was more understanding, less disappointed, but somehow those dark, watchful eyes that swirled with recognition hurt so much more. I would take disappointment over the possibility of my girlfriend’s pain any day.

And she'd still be so beautiful. So patient. So perfect.

I'd want to let a tiny smile rest at the corners of my mouth but I couldn't, not with her looking at me like that.

So I'd put all my lasting energy into convincing her that I was okay. So that expression would go away and she could be put at ease and she could focus on more important things while I smiled and watched her.

I'd done it before. But before I've never felt so unbearably awful.

Not when my mom left, or when the drive in shut down, or when I momentarily misplaced my hat and felt a pain like nothing else. None of those even came close to the agonisingly empty feeling I had at the moment. And I didn't want Veronica anywhere near that emptiness, because she'd either get consumed by it too, or she'd be nowhere near capable of filling it, and I'm not sure which one of those would hurt me more.

So sometimes I do wish I could just break up with her, so I could rest at ease and sit in the corner of the trailer knowing that if I did end up driving myself to my death, at least no one would be in too much pain. But then I'd remind myself of how impossibly selfish I was, and how I'd never let her go unless she let go first.

I wouldn't be surprised if that time came soon. Who really wanted a wishy-washy, watered down, suicidal headcase for a boyfriend? One who, for the life of him doesn't know what's best for him, and if he did he'd never go for that option because he likes to suffer in silence. One who will put his girlfriend before everything and anything, would go to impossible lengths to keep a smile on her face, but doesn't feel comfortable letting her in. One who was just a walking, talking lie.

"What do you say Jug?"

I snapped out of it and glanced up, cracking a small smirk in Archie's direction and pretending I was present during the whole conversation. I'd catch up eventually. I usually did.

"Anything involving you and I'd be in, Archiekins," I said, mocking my girlfriend and reaching across the booth to steal one of his fries, smiling at said princess softly and feeling my face go warm as she leaned into me. I ignored Archie's, Kevin's and Betty's gentle smiles as they watched us, and played with my fingers on the table.

These rare times were what I did it all for; they were why I was still here living and breathing and socialising.

They gave me genuine reasons to smile. These people, unknowingly, keep me alive. With their funny jokes and their selfless actions and the love they presented me with. Something I hate to say I hunger after. And the most important factor was, they needed me too.

I kept Betty calm, kept her from going all frantic, saved her from both herself and the toxic situations she always seemed surrounded by.

I kept Archie grounded and calm and stopped him from making those stupid mistakes he likes fall into.

I kept Kevin positive. Kept him laughing. With my dry jokes and my blunt statements and my superhero ability to make Veronica blush like a ripe tomato.

And lastly but obviously not least, I kept the raven haired princess smiling. She could do that all on her own, but I knew my smiles were different than the ones she gave everyone else and knowing that kept me going. I kept her safe, kept her reassured, kept her sheltered in my old trailer away from her awful ‘home’ where she could live healthily and freely (and poorly but she didn’t seem to mind too much). I love her.

I couldn't leave them, not until I had to. Not until it got so unbearable that nothing else could save me from it. All the chronic pain and dark thoughts.

They didn't need to know either. None of them did. I didn't want them being dragged down with me when they had so much potential, so much will, so much everything. It would just be another big thing to have to worry about after our lives are just finally settling down. None of us wanted that, did we? We didn't wanna worry about little Jug with his attention seeking thoughts and his incessant will to die. That would be such a waste of brain space.

So I did the usual Jughead way of dealing with things like this, and decided I was going to suppress them until they finally killed me.

Sounded like an offer I couldn't possibly pass up.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you lot like this and I beg you tell me your thoughts and what you wanna see me writing next. I'm a bit of an angst queen like my characters never catch a break i apologise,,, but anyway,, stan jeronica for clear skin and thank you for reading :)
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> This is an old fic I touched up and reposted btw, so you might recognise it reading through as the old version had been up for like a year now, I only just deleted it lmao
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> Now look, I'll let y'all onto a lil secret that i wrote this when i was feelin pretty low and the only revision i did was add in jeronica,,,kinda let the emotional parts stay raw and how they were written when i was actually feeling it, so yanno, if it dont make sense that's bc i was fucked up lmaoooo


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